I am a Catholic, albeit a semi-practising one. Don’t make me go into the detail — let’s just say the missus is not perpetually knocked up despite our nocturnal scrums every Tuesday night. I don’t have the full complement of Catholic sacraments but I have received Baptism, Holy Communion, Confirmation and Marriage. They’re still hogging…

I suppose it was always inevitable. Someone was bound to see my column in the Sunday Times, add one and one and get eleven. Look, I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a bunch of immature gits who find titillation in sordid tales about teenagers fornicating in public restrooms. But…

So, two teenagers had intercourse in a public toilet today. At 3pm. The one in the afternoon. I had just come from a meeting in Melville when I decided to withdraw some cash at Campus Square. On my way from the ATM I went into the public restrooms next to the Standard Bank. The first…

A few weeks ago I was invited to an ANC election rally in Sandton’s trendy Taboo nightclub. I think they called the rally the Fikile Mbalula Birthday Bash. I went because I can’t resist free beer. Also, the Afro-pop songstress Kelly Khumalo was performing there. I like looking at listening to her. Because the invite…

I believe that there is a dearth of insightful, incisive yet irreverent and witty social commentary on these shores. Look, our publishing houses churn out enough political commentary and biographies. And of course there is a market for that type of work. But if I see yet another 1 100-page book on the arms deal, I…

Apparently newspapers used to report the news. I can’t say for sure because that was before my time. Those were the days. It has been my observation that reporting the news in newspapers has become old-fashioned. Let’s call the current approach in the mainstream print media the Bugger-Facts-Opinion-Rules (BFOR) model. So, for instance, if Tito…

At about 10.30 on Friday evening I returned a missed call from one of the cultureless, classless and nondescript collection of heathens I’m known to consort with from time to time. They call themselves the MOT — or Men Of Thirst. Let’s call this particular savage Xolani, for that is, after all, what his folks…

So the Zuma Tsunami was really unstoppable after all. This is the greatest news ever. Or a national tragedy of calamitous proportions. Jacob Zuma is one of those individuals who always seem to bring it out in everyone. The passion, I mean. I have yet to meet an individual who shrugged and went, “Zuma? I…

I remember a time when people used to like me. Those were the days. Conventional wisdom dictates that the older we grow, the wiser we become. I don’t know any more. I hope you don’t dispute the fact that being liked by people is significantly better than being despised. At no other prior stage in…

My wife and I were driving in Garsfontein in the general Tshwane area this past weekend when we spotted a guy in a blue Audi S3 Sport with Jacob Zuma’s grinning mugshot and the words, “Vote ANC” emblazoned on the driver’s side door panel. The first thing that struck me about this is that it…

Profile

Once upon a time, Ndumiso Ngcobo used to be an intelligent, relevant man with a respectable (read: boring-as-crap) job which funded his extensive beer habit.
One day he woke up and discovered that he had lost his mind, quit his well-paying job, penned a collection of hallucinations. A bunch of racist white guys published the collection just to make him look more ridiculous and called it 'Some of my best friends are white'. (Two Dogs, ISBN 978-1-92013-718-2).
Nowadays he spends his days wandering the earth like Kwai Chang Caine, munching locusts, mumbling to himself like John the Baptist and searching for the meaning of life at the bottom of beer mugs.
The racist publishers have reared their ugly heads again and dangled money in his face to pen yet another collection of hallucinations entitled 'Is It Coz 'm Black'.
He will take cash, major credit cards and will perform a strip tease for contributions to his beer fund.